Entree
by nek0-sama
Summary: The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his pink-lipped mouth, drawing attention to the fact that his lips were the pinkest lips that Troy had ever seen on a boy. 'None of the other guys have lips that pink', Troy mused.


**A/N:** **This was written in response to an anonymous request on Tumblr. It's sort of an elaboration on Troy's introduction to Ryan, as seen in "Introspective". So, this is Pre-Tryan with a hint of some Chadpay. **

**Disclaimer: As always, I have no ownership claims to any recognizable characters or trademarks of the**_** High School Musical**_** universe. © of all related properties belongs to Disney and Peter Barsocchini.**

Entree

Fourteen year-old Troy Bolton settled into his seat. He was aware of the "back-to-school" chatter of his classmates surrounding him. As his cheeks heated up self-consciously, Troy focused on taking in the posters decorating the classroom walls. His eyes took in various equations, the order of operations, and something about substituting letters for numbers?- which were all in bright colors.

The brunette boy dug a spiral notebook out of his book bag. Just in case. Regardless of what his best friend, Chad Danforth, thought about schoolwork, Troy knew that it was always better to be on the top of your game. That was why he'd graduated from the eighth grade with all As, and Chad _just_ managed passing grades with Cs and Ds.

He hoped that none of the comments made by his peers were directed at his haircut. Or, rather, lack thereof. Over the summer, he'd opted to let his hair grow out, instead of letting his mom drag him to the local barber. Chad had teased him about the decision, but Troy felt that entering high school meant that it was time for a change.

He just hoped that this change wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass. Okay, maybe the usage of the word "ass", was a bit _too_ crude. Darn Chad, teaching him to swear.

As had been their customary classroom seating arrangement since the third grade, Chad dropped loudly into the seat behind Troy. Troy turned around to trade grins with his bushy-haired best friend. They had been very lucky to get into the same first period class. "What do you think?" Chad asked.

Troy shrugged and half-smiled. "East High seems like a pretty cool place, so far."

Chad shook his head, letting out a laugh. "I was talking about the _girls_, man."

Girls. Troy swallowed. Glossy lips, soft skin, dresses, blouses, makeup._ Girls_. At some point over the summer before they moved up to the eighth grade, Chad discovered the opposite sex. And, as a result, his mindset about them did a complete one eighty. Suddenly, the thought of dating girls was appealing to Chad, the loudest proclaimer that girls were riddled with "cooties", back in elementary school, while Troy was still finding it difficult not to flinch away when girls made contact with him.

Troy's dad assured his son that this was just "part of growing up, and becoming a man", and that Troy would soon find his thoughts swayed toward desiring a girlfriend of his own. Such an idea seemed unfathomable to Troy, even though he believed his father.

Chad nudged Troy sharply. "Who is _that_?"

"Who is what?" Troy turned back toward the front of the class, just in time to see Mr. Davis, the Algebra teacher, standing up and crossing to the door. The school principal, Mr. Matsui, stood there waiting with a stack of papers in hand. Since Troy's dad was the basketball coach and gym teacher at East High, Troy had accompanied him to work a couple of times before the students' first day of school, in order to learn the ins and outs of the building. That way, he'd be less likely to get lost. Because of those trips to the school, he had already become acquainted with the man in charge.

Troy didn't have to look to know that Chad's face had paled. Seeing the principal was never considered a good omen in Chad Danforth's book.

The two men spoke quietly, and the stack of papers changed hands, passing to Mr. Davis. Mr. Davis looked briefly over the papers, nodded at Mr. Matsui, and then gestured to someone just out of sight.

The rest of the class was rapt with attention; kids blinking curiously, and whispering to each other about who could be preparing to cross the threshold into their classroom.

As Troy watched, two blond kids about his age, a girl and a boy, both dressed in expensive designer clothing that seemed to have come right out of one of those magazines that Troy's mother sometimes read, entered the room. The girl's golden blonde hair was perfectly styled in Barbie doll curls. She oozed self-confidence, and smiled as she turned to face the class. The boy, on the other hand, whose slightly darker blond hair was partially hidden under a sparkling newsboy cap, seemed _shy_. It was almost like he was trying to hide behind the girl.

"Class," Mr. Davis said, "this is Sharpay and Ryan Evans. They just moved to Albuquerque from Rhode Island."

"'Shar Pei'?" Chad leaned forward to mutter in Troy's ear. He gave a short snort of laughter. "Isn't that a breed of dog?"

Troy didn't laugh with him. He was too preoccupied with watching the blond siblings. Ryan's legs were shaking, and his pale face looked peaked.

Sharpay also seemed to notice how scared her brother was. She stopped smiling at the class long enough to shoot her brother a look demanding that he compose himself, and touch his arm in what appeared to Troy to be a reassuring manner. The pair made their way to some empty seats two rows over from Troy's desk, Sharpay taking the lead.

"I have to run down to the office to make some copies," Mr. Davis continued, "so please, behave yourselves."

Everyone in the class nodded, and a few kids promised him, "We will."

The moment Mr. Davis left the classroom, and shut the door behind him, however, the buzz started right back up, louder than it was before. Just like Troy expected it would.

"You really came here from Rhode Island?" A girl asked, turning around in her chair to face Sharpay.

"Of course," Sharpay answered her, sitting tall and proud.

"Where did you get your _clothes_?!" Another girl asked, her voice high with excitement and adoration.

"I'm _rich_," Sharpay replied, a smirk curling her lips as she fluffed her golden curls. "That means that I get to shop at all of the _best _stores. I imported these shoes and eight others just like them from a store in _France_." Shifting, she angled herself sideways at her desk, and stretched out her legs to reveal a pair of glittery white heels that Troy estimated to be more expensive than the rusted old pickup truck sitting in his family's garage.

Chad made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. "Can you believe this girl?" He whispered. He added a bit more quietly, "She is pretty hot, though, I guess."

Troy didn't respond. He peered past Chad and Sharpay at Ryan. Ryan seemed to be contentedly listening to his sister, a small smile on his face, until more kids clustered around Sharpay, passing by his desk as they went. The moment someone came too close to him, Ryan went rigid and buried his nose in a thick anthology of poems by Edgar Allen Poe.

Poe's work was a bit too heavy and depressing for Troy, but he did enjoy reading. His favorite book was Harper Lee's _To Kill A Mockingbird_. He figured that a shared interest in books was enough grounds to at least start up a conversation with the timid blond boy. After all, Troy had always tried his best to not leave anyone out. "Um, hey, there," he said softly, but still loudly enough to be heard over Sharpay's ongoing conversations.

Ryan gave a start, and peered up from his book. The moment he saw Troy, some color returned to his cheeks. "H-Hey."

"Which poem are you reading?" Troy inquired, wearing a reassuring smile. He wasn't sure _why_ Ryan was so skittish, but he definitely knew that he didn't want to contribute to the blond boy's fear.

"_Eldorado_," Ryan replied. The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his pink-lipped mouth, drawing attention to the fact that his lips were the _pinkest_ lips that Troy had ever seen on a boy.

_None of the other guys have lips that pink_, Troy mused. Still, getting Ryan to smile, even slightly, was a kind of small victory. Troy's brows furrowed as he said pensively, "I don't think I've ever read that one."

That's when Troy heard it. The whispering.

"Look at how _tight_ his jeans are."

"No _boy_ has hats that sparkle."

The color drained from Ryan's face, and he shrank back into the thick book, clenching it tightly.

Troy scowled. So _what_ if Ryan liked to wear tight pants and sparkling hats? It wasn't hurting anyone. Why couldn't people just learn to mind their own damn business and not judge each other? He was on the verge of speaking up, of telling those kids to knock it off.

And, Troy knew that Chad recognized that in his face, because Chad was shaking his head, his brown eyes pleading, _Come on, man. Don't do it. Not on our first day of high school._

Then, someone uttered that skin-crawlingly awful word.

"Fag."

Anger heated Troy's insides. He _hated_ that word. He'd heard so many guys call other guys that to such an extent, that Troy's gut instinct upon hearing _that _word was to clench his fists.

"_Excuse_ me?!" Sharpay snapped, her brown eyes gleaming threateningly. The room fell into a dead silence. "Who said that?"

A pin dropping to the floor could have been audible.

Chad's eyes widened. "_Dude_," he mouthed.

Sharpay's menacing glare passed over the faces of everyone in the classroom, aside from her brother. "_**Never**_ use that word in mine or Ryan's presence again," she ordered through clenched teeth. "Are we understood?"

"Yes, Sharpay!" A few people stammered.

Some of the boys scoffed and rolled their eyes. Everyone else just nodded hastily.

Mr. Davis chose that moment to return to the classroom, restoring order with his reappearance. He spent the rest of the period passing out the classroom rules and requirements, and a class syllabus. It didn't escape Troy's notice that for the rest of that duration, Ryan's legs were trembling under his desk.

By the time the bell rang, Ryan already had all of his belongings packed up in his messenger bag, and was awaiting Sharpay's signal to leave the room. As he trailed along behind her, an elbow jab from a guy roughly five times his size sent the petite boy toppling to the ground…

_Right _in front of Troy's face. "_Hey_!" Troy called out, his stomach tight with fury. Few things in the world pissed him off like bullying did.

A pair of strong hands clamped down on Troy's shoulders in an effort to hold him back. "_No_. Troy, come on. We have to get to our next class!" Chad insisted.

Reluctantly, Troy let his fury at Ryan's harassment die down. Chad was right. There was nothing that Troy could do about it now, anyway. Troy Bolton was just a scrawny fourteen year-old freshman with a stupid looking haircut. But, one day, Troy reminded himself as he slung his book bag over his shoulder, he'd be a member of East High's basketball team, and he would use the power that came with being involved in athletics to ensure that no one ever got bullied at East High again.

Not on his watch.


End file.
